


Boundaries

by Aeshna



Category: James Bond (Movies), Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/pseuds/Aeshna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"This is </i>way<i> outside your jurisdiction." He planted his hands on the edge of her desk. "Trust me on this."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [Porn Battle](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/394717.html), prompt "Crossover, James Bond/Torchwood, Dench!M/Jack Harkness, jurisdiction". I'm not usually one for crossovers – characters are very much part and parcel of their background universe for me and I find it almost impossible to write them outside of their context – but this pairing really rather appealed.
> 
> Thanks as always to [mimarie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mimarie/pseuds/mimarie) for looking this over for me – any remaining weirdnesses are all mine.

"Call off your boys – this one's mine."

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry, he just–"

"He always does." She dismissed the flustered aide – honestly, where _were_ they finding them these days? – with a flick of her fingers and leaned back in her chair, looking up at the man who had just invaded her office. "And just which 'one' would this be, Captain?"

"The ever-so- _slightly_ messy business that just went down in Ljubljana." He cocked an eyebrow, watching her until she nodded acknowledgement. "We need the item intact."

"Given that the item in question is currently in the hands of my agents, I rather feel–"

"This is _way_ outside your jurisdiction." He planted his hands on the edge of her desk. "Trust me on this."

She met his gaze squarely. "I've heard those words from you before."

"And you're still breathing." His smile was all teeth, sharp and dangerous. "You know the rules – you can mess with Five, with the Forces, with Special Branch, but you do _not_ interfere in Torchwood business. Understood?"

Silence hung between them for a long moment... then she sighed and shook her head. "R&D were rather looking forward to getting their hands on that, you know."

"I'm sure they were," he said, still leaning over her. "Shame this one's too hot for your people to handle."

"You underestimate them."

" _I_ know what that thing can do if you don't handle it right."

"And I've heard _that_ from you before as well." She chuckled softly. "It's been a while, Jack."

"It's been too long."

She gazed up at him, her face as impassive as his even as her pulse skipped in sudden anticipation. So much memory, so much history, and there were so very few left she could call her equal... "Perhaps it has."

He cocked the familiar half-smile she had first known in Berlin, over forty years before, and then she was on her feet, triggering the privacy lock with one hand as the other grabbed for his collar and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. He still smelled the same, tasted the same, the strength beneath her grasping hands still _felt_ the same, and if she had changed beneath the weight of years, he didn't seem to care.

Or, indeed, notice.

He shrugged out of his long coat – her minions had, it seemed, at least relieved him of his gun before he came storming in – and moved to press her against the desk, lifting her onto the polished wood with no regard for paperwork. Quick fingers loosened clothing, slid against skin, teasing and tracing and–

" _Ah!_ " She threw her head back, hips jerking as he pressed against her clit through cloth, making her blood throb and sing. "Bastard..."

"Believe it, sweetheart." Her trousers and panties were hauled off, thrown aside, and then she was on her back and snarling encouragement as he covered her, thrusting once against her thigh before finding his goal. So hard, so thick, and _fuck_ , but she hadn't been this wet in years, pinned down and stretched taut, her rank forgotten as she hissed and bucked beneath him. He was fast and fierce and far from gentle, pounding her into the desk, and she gloried in it, in the reminder of lost youth, taking it all and demanding more, always _more_ , until... until–

She came with a curse, wrapping herself hard about him and riding it out until he shuddered and broke in turn, their mingled climax staining the papers crumpled beneath them.

"Thought you were a married woman now," he murmured roughly against her throat once they had stilled. "Outside my jurisdiction. You made that perfectly clear in Stockholm in '72."

"Oh, I am. But I'm old and he's older, and you..." She smiled and brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead, remembering being so young and naive, caught up in the rush of her first real mission, the adrenaline and passion, the heady scents of cordite and shared sweat. "Let's just say that jurisdictional boundaries may... evolve over time."

He chuckled and drew back. "Golf widow, huh?"

"I'd have you shot for that," she told him, eyes narrowing despite the truth of it, "if I thought it would do a jot of good." She winced as she pushed herself up, feeling the ache of bruises to come and knowing each one to be worth it – perhaps she should try treading on Torchwood's toes more often. "Now, about your mystery item..."


End file.
